Left Isn't Right

Now that you've left

I am compelled to admit

I wish you didn't

I wish we didn't -

I don't know -

Something different

Because...

Now that you have left

I just don't feel right.

Face and Fall

"I don't like where I am in my life"
One word slurred into another
"Too much pain and too much strife"
Unaware of all who love her
"Don't tell me tomorrow what I've said"
When the afterthought turned to beg 
"I don't want to face what I've become"
Blurred memory of where she came from
"Maybe I should... maybe I should face it"
Then her own advice quickly dissipated
"But I can't do it - I shouldn't have called"
And the voice disappeared into her nightly fall.

Crush

If I could stand within the rays he emits long enough
Maybe I'd be comforted enough to say this:

Your face is a calm autumn day in the middle of summer

And your smile has rays that send my head over -

- and under, and through - sweet dreams in slumber

I dreamt your arms to be a warm, nestling blanket

So I hold on to the moments with our brief embraces

And I hold in the words of my impatient feelings

They bang loudly against the walls of my imagination

"I was just wondering, are you seeing anyone?"

Such a simple question! I can't bring myself to ask

As though the answer would remove the mask

Is it a facade I've held on to that there is a chance?

I wonder if I'm happiest with my imagination's glance.

Blue Mondays

Another Monday, you're feeling blue
An unexplained headache
You just don't feel like you.

Another Monday, I'm missing you
An unsurprising heartache
I wish I didn't love you.

Another Monday, recovering from booze
A story for my sake?
I don't want your excuse.

Close Encounters are Unkind

I heard you whisper my name
I turned and you weren't there.

It slips.
Every time.
Where you are.

Someone always tells me.
They must not know
What it's like to feel your glow
Then stand outside of it, cold.
They must not know
What it's like to fall apart
When I hear that you're close.
I imagine your laugh
And I can't help but cry,
Because these close encounters
Are so very unkind.

Paris in the Nighttime

He hung Paris on the wall, as though to explain:
That's where we fall, somewhere far away,
That's where we love, behind the scenes.
That's what he does and then he leaves.

I study the tower at abrupt mornings' ends
Out of the shower and we're back to friends
All intimacy is gone, I stare at the painted lights
I long for our seemingly imagined nights.

He hung Paris on the wall, as though to say:
Please don't fall, but don't go too far away.
Listen for my call, and we'll escape the day,
We will crawl again through the cracks of this place.

Realizing Quiet

I am thinking of all the times I have carelessly walked through a door with the noise of my day buzzing around me; loudly throwing keys to the table, dropping bags to the floor as I begin out loud thoughts that end with other tangents; Times I have walked past a loved one without eye contact or touch...

I'm so hungry,

I'm so tired,

I'm so frustrated,

I'm not one to judge, but you understand right?
I'm so ready for bed, I'm excited to meet with friends,
Oh by the way, what was your day like?

Now I'm thinking of how I couldn't know
Of the noise tires make as they slosh through snow
Abruptly stopping in the drive before they even slow
An innocent intruder who brushes in with the cold
Loud breaths to overtake the quiet you came to know
The clashing of keys dropped heavily on the table
All of this interrupts the immersion of you in the pages
Pages that took you from the noise, the fear
The safety of thoughts only you can hear
Of yourself as you, open and hopeful
Of yourself unaborted, with a kiss to leave you vulnerable
A hope that someday, you will feel
A comforting break from your own heavy silence
A welcoming warmth when Good Intention opens the door
Confidence that the other side of the bed won't be empty anymore.

Noise

I am hearing noises I didn't hear before.
The sink drips incessantly
Tap-Tapping to remind me
Of things that don't exist anymore

The sound that water makes
In pipes that surround an empty place
Traveling through the house bones
Spelling out clearly the word ALONE

The stairs whisper and creak
The wind blows impatiently
These are the haunting sounds
Of nothing, of everything

Turning Twenty Five

In between good and great
A chance to taste
But not to hold
In between young and old
When the world unfolds
While you wait on hold
A momentary glance
An inside view at chance
A realization, or two or three
That you don't know a damn thing!

Tough

"oh honey, you're tough"
as though I scraped my knee
as though this isn't rough
as though there is nothing I need


she thinks I'm so strong
I can't tell if she's listening
a scream for help,
I just want my mom.

her voice is flat
so I hold back tears
my voice still cracks
though it's been years

since she left
cold, empty replies
over a distant line
are constant reminders

that still make me cry.